


'Tis the Season

by makuroshi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas market, Fluff and Humor, Holiday Fic Exchange, Louis is a freaking cutie here, M/M, Meet the Family, Schweinski Secret Santa 2014, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 10:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makuroshi/pseuds/makuroshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As promised, Lukas shows up at his doorstep early in the morning with a radiant grin on his face, three days to Christmas.</p><p>(In which Lukas and Louis spend their Christmas with the Schweinsteiger family. What could possibly go wrong?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Tis the Season

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madanach](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madanach/gifts).



> For the recipient's prompt: Christmassy Fluff + Munich Christmas Market. Merry Christmas, dear!

It’s four days to Christmas.

Bastian supposes that receiving a call from Lukas at three in the morning announcing that he’s dropping by to spend this year’s Christmas with him isn’t the worst thing that could have happened, nor is it the weirdest. He’s been friends with Lukas for more than ten years now, and lovers for at least half of that, so nothing ever fazes him anymore. Except Lukas going down on his knee to propose in front of their teammates, probably, that’s going to leave him shaken a little. Not that the scene’s going to take place anytime soon considering the amount of commitments they both are shouldering right now, but yeah, the point is that Bastian is used to this. Used to Lukas’ quirks and pranks, to his impromptu plans that more often than not do not make sense and usually goes wrong 97% of the time.

“Why Munich, though? Why not Cologne?” Bastian asks. An icy breeze hits his hand that’s sticking out from underneath the cover to hold his phone, the chill running down the expanse of his arm making him shiver violently. Bastian groans and burrows further below the comforter. The things he does for this guy, really.

On the other end of the line, Lukas is laughing at his obvious misery, voice bright and clear like always. Even through the call, Bastian can already picture the way Lukas is sprawled over the bed, torso hanging off the edge and feet kicking incessantly at the messy pile of blankets as he gets immersed in the conversation. Lukas is basically an actual human heater, this he knows from the numerous previous experiences of sleeping together (not the sweaty, body-heat-generating, intimate kind, mind you). Winter is less harsh on him. It’s pretty unfair, to be honest; Bastian has the thermostat cranked all the way up and he’s still _freezing_.

“No particular reason. I just feel like it,” comes Lukas’ reply. Bastian rolls his eyes at that. Of course. Of course he would do something just for the heck of it, it _is_ Lukas Podolski after all.

“But what about Louis and Monika? And your parents?”

“I talked to my parents about it… Mom was kinda disappointed at first, but when I told her that I was going to your place, she lightened up. Even sent me some boxes to pass to you. Pretty sure it’s her signature ugly sweaters, hand-knitted and all,” Lukas says. Bastian tries to refrain from sighing, because despite Mrs. Podolski’s knitting skills being top-notch, her fashion sense isn’t exactly something she can take pride in.

The memory of their matching striking crimson sweaters with little reindeers that supposedly signified each member of the National Team (their faces were all pretty much the same, except for one that has an extra-large nose and platinum blonde fur and another with a disturbingly bright smile) complete with the tagline ‘ _Ein Sommermärchen’_ _stretching across the back comes to Bastian’s mind, and he involuntarily cringes. Luckily, Lukas doesn’t notice and continues._ “Monika will be with her family, she’s fine with me taking Louis this time.”

That catches Bastian off guard for a moment. “Louis is coming with you?” he asks.

“Yeah, once I told him about the plan, he couldn’t stop going on and on about his beloved Uncle Basti,” Lukas laughs light-heartedly. And then he falls silent. Bastian knows this can’t be good; a too-quiet Lukas is never a good sign. True enough, Lukas clears his throat seconds later and resumes speaking, now in his ‘I need a tiny weeny favour from you’ tone. “Speaking of Louis, actually I have another thing to ask of you.”

Bastian snorts. “I _knew_ you wouldn’t have called if you weren’t up to something.”

“Hey, you make it sound like I’m the bad guy!”

“Aren’t you always?” Bastian teases, but when Lukas lets out a small helpless whimper, he just can’t refuse anymore. If he doesn’t relent, the curiousity is going to kill him, anyway. “I can hear you pouting from miles away, Luki. What’s the big idea, then?”

“Okay, listen. You know those travel programmes they air on TV, the ones that show tourist attractions across the world and stuff? Well, apparently Louis watched it a few days ago, and now he wants to go to Munich’s Christkindlmarkt.”

Bastian frowns, confused. “But I thought you brought him there? Was it two years, no, three years back?”

“Basti, he was _three_.”

Lukas has a point there, hardly anyone remembers anything at that age. Louis is six plus now, isn’t he? How time flies... “Still, Cologne has Christmas markets too, and they’re just as great. I’ve been to the Cathedral’s one last year, the decorations were amazing,” Bastian reasons, trying to get Lukas to reconsider his rather brash decisions.

“Cologne is the best, after all!” Lukas cheers excitedly, prompting a stupid grin to creep up Bastian’s face. There are times when he starts to wonder if Lukas loves Cologne more than he loves him (and somehow his train of thoughts brings him back to the time Lukas left Bayern for his hometown club in 2009, and honestly… he doesn’t want to think about it). Oblivious to Bastian’s musings, Lukas carries on talking. “The thing is, we’ve been to all of them. Angel, Alter, Harbour, Cathedral, you name it. Louis liked Altermarkt the most, even coaxed me into buying those little gnomes. Now he’s insisting on going to Munich for a change, and well… you know me, Basti, I—“

“Can never say no to him, I know. I swear you’re the reason he’s so spoiled,” Bastian shakes his head, smile reaching up till his ears. The cold room doesn’t feel so bad now, Lukas’ voice probably has some magical warming properties (or maybe, he just misses him a _bit_ more than he’d like to admit).

“My only baby,” Lukas says proudly. “For whom I have yet to buy a Christmas present.”

 

Bastian halts, choking on empty air.

 

“What?!” He shrieks, springing upright from his previous Swiss roll position, all wrapped up nicely in the plush comforter. The instant biting chill that attacks his skin makes him hiss. “Are you kidding me, Lukas? Why haven’t you gotten him anything?”

Bastian doesn’t have to see to know that Lukas is rubbing his neck sheepishly, guilty expression betrayed by the ever cheeky smile on his painfully handsome face. “Louis said he doesn’t want anything. When I asked him what he hopes for, you wanna know what he said? ’I want papa and mama to keep smiling and be happy again.’” He explains. “That boy’s a freaking angel.”

Bastian goes silent. He thinks of the times when Lukas and Monika were still together; the epitome of a a perfect family. They had Louis at a fairly young age, ladened with insecurities and inexperience, but they were happy back then. At least, that’s what they appear to be, before Bastian comes into the picture and… yeah. Time and again, Lukas reminds him that it’s never his fault, that the falling out with Monika happened even before they realized the mutual attraction they shared, but he still feels at wrong, particularly when it comes to denying Louis of the complete family the boy deserves. Well, if he could avoid falling in love with his best friend, he would have done so long ago. His heart just decided otherwise.

“Basti? Hey, what’s wrong?” Lukas asks, concerned.

“Nothing, just lost in thought for a moment. Anyway,” Bastian hurriedly says, wanting to put the negative thoughts away. “I don’t mind you coming over, but I’ll have you know that we Schweinsteigers are early-risers. Half past ten isn’t exactly the right time for you to be waking up, because we’ll be decorating the house and tree on Christmas Eve morning, and you know how my mom is like. Tobi and I get _backaches_ every time, her idea of decorating is just ridiculous.”

“Sounds fun!” Lukas chirps in eagerly, to which Bastian simply laughs.

“Wait till you see the real deal, big guy, then you tell me how fun it is. If you promise not to laze around spending your time taking selfies and uploading them onto Instagram every few hours… you’re welcomed in my house.” A small yawn escapes him before he can fight it, and fortunately, Lukas takes it as cue to give him the good night sleep he desperately needs.

“Damn right I am. See you tomorrow, mein Hase!”

Groaning at the nickname (honestly, which part of him resembles a bunny in the first place?), Bastian ends the late-night call, but not without a threat. “If you dare call me that in front of my family, consider yourself dead, Luki!”

* * *

As promised, Lukas shows up at his doorstep early in the morning with a radiant grin on his face, three days to Christmas.

“Uncle Basti!” Louis shouts enthusiastically the moment his brilliant cerulean eyes zero on Bastian’s form, instantly running towards him and launching a surprise hug. He’s grown a bit from the last time Bastian had seen him during the World Cup, now nearly reaching higher than his waist.

“Louis!” Bastian calls out, hoisting the blonde boy up into his arms in a swift motion, giving a peck on his rosy cheek. “Miss me a lot?”

“Yeah!” Louis answers, and then his tiny hands rest on Bastian’s right cheek, just below his eye, where the souvenir wound from the World Cup used to be. “Your face, it doesn’t hurt anymore?” He asks innocently. Feeling touched and moved, Bastian gives a nod and glances over at Lukas, mouthing a soft _‘an angel!’._ Lukas simply chuckles.

“Good! Papa said Uncle Basti needs rest, but I saw you playing on TV that day, so I think you had enough rest already,” Louis squirms out from the embrace and dashes into the house, arms held out in front of him like a superhero zooming in to fly. “Time for fun!”

Now that the petite bundle of energy is gone, the atmosphere around them turns calm again. Lukas puts the luggage down and takes a step closer to his lover, smirking.

Bastian fights the impending smile but fails miserably. Lukas’ beam is like a virus; a _very_ infectious, lethal virus. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” Lukas punches him on the arm lightly, dropping his hand to gently take Bastian’s in his grasp. “What, I came all the way here and not even a kiss? Come on!”

Laughing at Lukas’ childish antics, Bastian tugs their intertwined hands to pull him in for a kiss. He intends for it to be a simple peck on the lips, but clearly Lukas isn’t having any of that as he deepens the sweet, sweet kiss, leaving his taste on Bastian’s tongue. Panting and out of breath, Bastian anxiously glances around the compound, checking if anyone has seen them. Thankfully, it’s still early for people to be roaming around.

“That’s more like it,” Lukas says, running his hand fondly through Bastian’s hair. “I missed you.”

 “You call me every other day, Lukas, you can’t be missing me that much.”

“Nothing beats the real thing. Besides, over the phone, I can’t do this—“ Lukas is leaning in to steal another kiss when a shrill voice yells from inside the house.

“UNCLE BASTI! PAPA! I’M HUNGRY!”

Lukas grunts in frustration at the distraction. But after a while, they both double over in laughter.

“Sorry, we didn’t have time for breakfast, I had to rush here,” Lukas wipes away a stray tear, finally managing to suppress the giggles. He has to grip onto Bastian’s shoulders to stabilize himself. “You know how the traffic is like during festive seasons… Ahhh, my stomach hurts.”

Bastian ushers him in, closing the door behind them. The house feels like a home, now that he’s no longer alone. “It’s okay. I’ll fix something for us. Does pancake sound good?”

* * *

They leave Bastian’s place for his parent’s house around afternoon. Lukas insist on packing up a few of the sweaters his mom had stuffed into the box (turns out that he’s right, she _did_ knit some new ones for Bastian this year), and since it’s only a relatively short drive away, they arrive nicely just before lunchtime.

Mrs. Schweinsteiger is already waiting for them by the entrance when his Audi S8 pulls into the driveway. Just as he steps out and approaches the door, she engulfs her son in a motherly hug. “Bastian, my baby boy!” She exclaims in glee, making Bastian blush a little (because let’s be honest, baby boy isn’t something you’d want your boyfriend to hear coming from your mother).

“Mom…” He whispers bashfully, eyes searching for Lukas, begging for help. Lukas shrugs and sticks out his tongue. That brat.

“I’m sorry, sometimes I forget that you’re thirty and not thirteen anymore,” Mrs. Schweinsteiger says, pinching Bastian’s cheek one last time before turning her attention to the man standing next to him. “And Lukas, we’re very happy to have you here. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She leans forward for a hug –a more normal, less suffocating one- and Lukas reciprocates happily.

“It has, but you’re beautiful like always, Madam,” he compliments, winking over her shoulder at Bastian, who simply huffs.

“Oh my, you’re still as charming as ever!” She squeals (she’s always been a bit of a Lukas fangirl, per se), before letting go and bending down to level with Louis, who’s holding onto his father’s pants. “And how about this cute lil’ guy… Louis, am I right?”

“Yes! Louis, come say hi.”

Louis does as he’s told, hesitantly coming closer to give a kiss on her cheek. “Hi, umm… Nice to meet you,” He mutters, smiling shyly at her. “Can I call you Grandma?”

“Aawww, such a sweet child! Of course, honey, I don’t mind,” Mrs. Schweinsteiger gushes in joy, wrapping her arms around Louis in a loving embrace. She blissfully leads them into the house. “Ah, I kind of want to cry right now… So this is how it feels like to have a grandchild. Tobi needs to find someone soon!”

From the hallway that connects to the kitchen, Tobias’ voice resounds. “I heard you, mom!” He shouts out.

“Well, that’s the whole point, son!”

* * *

Before long, the day turns late evening. Finally, the time Louis has been waiting for.

Louis has already changed into his casual clothes way earlier, waiting in the living room while playing games with Tobias, eager to see what the Christmas markets are like in Munich. The whole family can’t help but to laugh at his adorable behaviour; they haven’t had young kids around for quite a while, and so far, Louis has brought nothing but joy to the house. It’s a bonus that he’s just as beautiful as Lukas was when he’s of the same age (Bastian knows, he’s seen Lukas’ baby pictures and the two are like splitting images, especially the smile).

“Mom, dad! We’re going out for a bit,” Bastian calls out, shortly after their early dinner. His mother appears right away, smiling widely when she sees the three all dressed up. “I’m taking them to Marienplatz, you guys want anything?”

“We have enough decorations from last year… But you can buy some more, just in case. We have extra hands to help out this time, don’t we?”

His dad walks over to sit down on the couch, patting Bastian on the back as he passes. “Some Glühwein for me, please. You know the stall that I liked, I’ve taken you there more than enough times for you to remember. Oh, and Lukas?” Mr. Schweinsteiger says. “Make sure he doesn’t get too drunk, okay? Wouldn’t want him to throw up all over the carpet on the eve of Christmas Eve.”

Bastian sputters, staring at his father incredulously. That’s certainly something he doesn’t want Lukas to know. “H-hey, that was Tobi! I used a proper bucket like a civilized man!”

Tobias looks up from the television to quirk his eyebrow, giving Bastian a sly look. He wags his finger in front of him and hums playfully. “Basti my little brother, you should know better than to accuse me. I can embarrass you in front of Lukas way worse than our parents can, you know?”

At that point, Bastian has finally concluded that yes, his whole family is ganging up on him, planning to inflict as much humiliation on him as possible when in front of his boyfriend. Great, just great. “No currywurst for you then, Tobi!” He shouts, pushing Lukas and Louis out the door before slamming it door shut, leaving his family behind in stitches.

No wonder some people call family gatherings the true nightmare before Christmas.

* * *

The Munich Christmas market is, to put it simply, a beautiful, _beautiful_ place.

At the heart of the Marienplatz, a 26-meter high Christmas tree stands tall and majestic, little candles lighting it up like a constellation of shining stars. The New Town Hall in the background provides a wonderful setting, and the rows of stalls lined up along the square are flawlessly decorated with lots and lots of trinkets, each attracting quite a crowd. Some pristine white snow has already covered most of the walking grounds and the canopies, giving an almost magical feeling coming straight from the pages of a fairytale. As they walk among the mass of people, Louis stares at the scenery in awe, blue eyes sparkling in delight as he takes in every single detail with fervor.

“So, Louis,” Bastian says, squeezing the boy’s hand lightly to grab his attention. “What made you want to come to Munich’s Christmas market so much? Any particular things that interest you?”

Louis nods enthusiastically, clearly enjoying himself. “I saw on TV, they have baking workshops. And also people run in silly costumes through the market, it looks really really fun! We don’t have that in Cologne.”

“Ahh, you mean the Krampus Run? I’m afraid it’s already over, Louis. They had the last one a few days ago. Even the Heavenly Workshops you mentioned has ended earlier...”

The crestfallen look on Louis’ face is more than enough to make anyone’s heart crumble into pieces. His usual smile is gone, replaced by a sullen grimace and furrowed eyebrows. He seems to be close to tears, judging from the slight tremble of his pinkish lips. Bastian instantly regrets saying that, even though it’s the truth.

Bastian is about to smother Louis in a big, comforting hug, but Lukas acts on it first. Tenderly, he sweeps his son into his arms, nuzzling his face onto the top of Louis’ head. A soft sob escapes Louis, and Bastian bends down to give him a soothing rub on his back. Louis is obviously struggling to stop himself from crying, perhaps not wanting to cause a scene or make his father upset.

“Louis dear, c’mere. I know that you’re disappointed about it, I’m sorry for not checking the dates too. But Uncle Basti took all the trouble to bring us here tonight. Won’t you put up a smile, please?” Lukas wheedles, caressing his son’s face lovingly. He presses a soft kiss onto Louis’ lips, like he’s always done since Louis was a baby, and that seems to work. Slowly, Louis starts to smile again, prompting a cheeky pinch from his dad. “See? That’s my good boy!”

Bastian lets out a sigh of relief. “We’ll have lots of fun, I promise. And I’ll buy you anything you want, okay?”

Hearing Bastian’s words, Louis beams at him and grabs both of the men’s hands, finally back to his usual cheerful nature. Thank god, because Bastian’s not sure his heart can handle seeing the mini-Poldi brokenhearted; his soft spot for the kid is as big as his whole heart itself.

“Uncle Basti and Papa are the best!”

* * *

They’ve gotten almost everything now -mulled wine, miniature guardian angels, gingerbread, and even some potato pancakes for Louis to try- when Bastian sees the stall selling scarves and other accessories. Scarves are just his weakness, he has tons of them in various shades of colour and materials, but it’s never enough. Bastian stops by the stall, earnestly reviewing the items while Lukas and Louis checks out the adjacent stall selling chocolate Rudolphs.

“Anything for your husband, young man?” The shopkeeper, a kind soft-spoken elder lady, asks. Bastian looks around to see who she’s talking to, but he soon realizes that it’s him. She’s asking _him_.

“Husband?” Bastian repeats, confused at first. Then, it dawns on him that the ‘husband’ she’s talking about is _Lukas_. She must have gotten the wrong idea when she saw them walking together, holding onto Louis’ hands on either side (okay, so _maybe_ that ought to have made them look like a gay couple, he should’ve thought that through earlier). “Oh, he’s not—we’re not— umm…”

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Lukas whispering into Louis’ ears, giggling among themselves. Louis nods in understanding before walking towards Bastian, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

“Daddy, daddy, can I have some of those, please?” Louis asks, smiling gullibly.

 

 _Lukas you fucking idiot,_ Bastian curses in his mind.

 

“Oh, uhh… Sure Louis, take your pick,” he stutters. The lady simply watches merrily as Louis points towards a row of fleece scarves hanging from a rack, asking for the yellow one.

“There you go,” She hands the scarf, neatly folded and placed in a sheer plastic. Just as Bastian thinks of paying for it and running away from any further complications, Lukas chooses that exact moment to pop up behind him and linking their arms like it’s the most natural thing to do.

“And for you, my dear?” The lady says to Lukas, who’s playing the role of Bastian’s husband far too well. Really, he deserves an Oscar for this.

“I’ll take this one, and… hmm, which one should I buy for your daddy, Louis?” Lukas makes a show of asking his son (gosh, the lady must be thinking that he’s _their_ son, and did Lukas just referred to him as _daddy_?!).

“I think the red one suits him, Papa!”

 

It’s official. The Podolskis are born pranksters. Definitely.

 

“What a great couple you both make,” The shopkeeper comments, eyes crinkling with her grin, handing over their goods after Bastian pays for them. “I hope you three will have wonderful days ahead. Merry Christmas!”

It’s rather hard to distinguish if the warmth on his cheeks is coming from the furious blush he’s sporting, or if it’s due to the steaming Glühwein he just downed (it’s most probably the former), but Bastian manages to keep his composure and offer a dazzling smile.

“Thank you, and Merry Christmas to you as well.”

Bastian pulls on the boys’ hands (yeap, Lukas is a ‘boy’ now, his previous action has ranked him with the likes of freaking six-year-olds) to drag them away from the stall, whispering harshly at Lukas once they’re out of the kind woman’s earshot. “What did you just do?”

“Oh come on, you know you like it when people mistake us for a couple. It’s kinda cute, don’t you think?”

“You dragged Louis into this!”

Lukas shrugs. “To be fair, he was the one who suggested it.”

“You did?” Bastian peers down at Louis, who simply replies with a guiltless smile. So it _was_ his idea. How do kids that young even understand these things?! When he was six, all that’s on his mind were football and skiing! “Ugh, you Podolskis are such a handful…” He sighs.

“Admit it Basti, you love these Podolskis.”

“You’re right, I do. Perhaps a little bit too much, even,” Bastian mutters. The snow is still falling, specks of flakes landing on top of anything that lies static, effectively painting the grounds white. It’s getting colder with each passing second, and the best way to keep warm is by sticking close and continue walking.

With a final huff, Bastian takes Louis’ gloved hand in his left and Lukas’ in his right, sandwiching himself in the middle. “Let’s get going, we still have a lot to cover!”

* * *

They return home with purchases more than what their hands can hold, but it’s worth it. Mrs. Schweinsteiger is immediately busied with putting away the decorations in the stash prepared for tomorrow, while her husband and eldest son are downing glass after glass of the delicious mulled wine. Everyone in his family is caught up with something that no one has the time to poke fun at Bastian, so for that he’s very, very thankful.

“Is Louis asleep?” Bastian asks later that night when he feels a pair of familiar hands wrapping around him from behind. It’s late and everyone else has gone to bed. He’s lounging on the couch in one of Mrs. Podolski’s sweaters, the warmth from the fabric and the crackling heat coming from the nearby fireplace wrapping him up in a soft, cozy cocoon of content and bliss.

Lukas walks around the couch and slumps down next to him. “Yeah. He’s worn out from all that walking, I think. Dozed off as soon as his head hits the bed.”

“I’m glad. I was so worried he’d hate me or something. Surprisingly, you make quite a good father, Luki.”

Lukas gives him a smug look, rolling up his sleeves and folding his arms in a swaggy pose (damn, are those biceps even _real_?) while trying to appear cool. Bastian laughs at that, because the gaudy seaweed green sweater with knitted candy canes that Lukas is wearing simply ruins the whole picture.

“Having some time to ourselves like this is kinda nice,” Lukas suddenly says, voice low and breathy, shuffling closer to rest his head on top of Bastian’s shoulder. “All the running around, trying to get the damn ball in the goal tires me out. It’s worse when you have like, fifteen minutes to do that.”

Humming in agreement, Bastian reaches over to entwine their hands, basking in the comfortable silence. They’re facing the fireplace and the medium-sized Christmas tree next to it stands bare, ready to be beautified tomorrow.

 

Quiet moments with Lukas are rare; something to be treasured. If only this can last forever.

 

Bastian’s the first to speak up after a while.

“You know, Lukas… If there’s something I really want for Christmas, it’s you,” he says, thumb gently caressing the back of Lukas’ hand. “I wish I could see you every day like before. Wish I could touch and kiss you whenever I want to, rather than just listening to your voice on the phone or seeing your stupid face on Skype.”

Lukas doesn’t answer, simply staring at his lover, shell-shocked. His slightly ajar mouth then curves up in a silly smile, but he still keeps silent, preferring to just gaze fondly at the man beside him, looking very much like the happiest person on Earth.

“Oi, give me some response of some sort, will you? You’re making me feel awkward like hell here!” comes Bastian’s complain, shoving him from the side.

“It’s just,” Lukas starts. “I want that too, Basti. Seriously. Transfer window’s coming up, but I still don’t know if I can, or if I _should_ leave. We both know what happened the last time I gave up too soon, and frankly… I don’t think I can get away with another mistake. I’m not getting any younger, that’s for sure.”

“Glad you realize you’re getting older, old man.”

“Shut up, I’m not the one who had three big fat candles on his birthday cake.”

“It’s _your_ turn next year.”

 

But Bastian knows that Lukas is right. Regardless of how much they want to be by each other’s side, both of them have responsibilities and consequences to ponder upon. It’s never easy, this career that they’ve chosen, but it’s their choice. Bastian has never once regretted choosing football though, that’s a certain.

“Can’t believe it’s been ten years, huh?” Lukas whispers, amused. “I still remember your bleached blonde phase, Basti. God, it was awful.”

“And yet you still fall in love with that same ugly bleached blonde with the bad haircut. What does _that_ say about _you_?”

“I don’t know, pretty stupid I guess,” Lukas jokes, and his laughter rings in the air when Bastian makes a pouty face. “Kidding! You know I’ll still like you even if you turn grey, or bald. Okay wait, maybe not bald, that’s a bit creepy now that I think of it.”

Bastian gasps dramatically. “Lukas!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Lukas plants a kiss to his cheek. After a short while, he asks. “Do you think Louis will like his present?”

Feeling the fatigue kicking in, Bastian is now struggling to keep his eyes open. He’s getting sleepy, and it’s just too comfy to not fall into slumber right there. But Lukas wants to talk, so he has to stay awake and listen. “Like you said, he’s a good boy. He’ll love anything that you give because you’re his favourite Papa.”

“I sure hope so… I was lucky to find that black and yellow bagpack. And it was the last piece, too. Thank god I could sneak out to buy it when you distracted him with the caroling. Though the shopkeeper did give me some strange looks when I bought it… She might’ve recognized me--” A loud yawn from his side cuts his words off. At the sight of the half-drowsy Bastian, he instantly bursts out cackling. “Time for your sleep, princess?” He snickers.

“If Prinz Poldi would care to join me, then yes.”

“Why, I’m truly honoured, Your Majesty!” Lukas teases. He takes one of Bastian’s hands –now no longer icy cold- and kisses the back of it. They fall into fits of giggles like little children, and leans closer into each other. Bastian sincerely hopes that none of his family members would wake up now and catch him cuddling with his lover on the couch. That’d be awkward, not to mention embarrassing as heck.

“I think I can say that this is the best Christmas I’ve had so far,” Lukas says.

“Yeah? We should celebrate it together more often, then.”

“We should,” he agrees. “Technically, it’s Eve tomorrow, but I just really want to say it now. Merry Christmas, mein Leibling.”

“You’ll never stop with the nicknames, will you?” Bastian groans. When the lethargy begins to feel a tad bit unbearable, he reluctantly extracts himself from the embrace to stand, pulling on Lukas’ hand. “Merry Christmas, mein Schatz. Now let’s go upstairs before we fall asleep cuddling on the couch.”

Lukas allows himself to be dragged up the stairs, never once letting his hand go. “Actually, that doesn’t sound so bad…” he says.

“Add ‘getting discovered by my mother the next morning and waking up to three pairs of eyes creepily staring at us’ to that statement, then.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound appealing,” Lukas replies.

 

 

And when they both fall onto the bed in a messy tangle of limbs and joyful laughter, Bastian can’t help but to agree that yeah, this is _definitely_ the best Christmas he can ever hope for.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any inaccuracies, I don't celebrate Christmas actually, and I certainly have never been to any Christmas markets before (heck, we don't even have snow here) but yeah, hope you guys enjoyed reading! Kudos/comments are really appreciated! ♥
> 
> By the way, Louis' gift was a BVB bagpack, hahaha :P
> 
> Have a fantastic Christmas~


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